Naruto Nevermore
by New Level Darkness
Summary: old work. Deidara is sick of his family. They don't respect him, and they'd rather have him dead. Well... he feels the same about them. What happens when he takes matters into his own hands?


This is kind of old. I haven't reread it in a while... w/e. it kinda sucks, looking back at it now. xD Deidara (c) masashi kishimoto & all the other dudes (c) me i guess since i made them up. funny how i create such terrible people c:

--

Never More

"Kaze! Please put it down!" Deidara jumped up and down under his older brother's arm. Taking Deidara's clay had become something of a hobby. Kaze swung his little brother's clay pouch above his head, a taunting grin growing on his face.

"If you want it, Little Brother, you're going to have to grow a few more feet," he teased. Deidara stood on his tip toes, struggling to balance.

"Kaze, please give it back," Deidara whimpered, reaching up with both arms.

"Why?" Kaze retorted. "It's not like you can do anything with it," he dangled the sack a little lower, provoking his brother.

"Nuh uh!" Deidara argued, tears leaking out of his eyes and rolling down his face. "I can make art!" Kaze's eyebrows shot up mockingly.

"Art?" he spat, throwing the clay pouch at Deidara, knocking the small boy off his feet. "That crap you make isn't art. It's shit," Kaze spat on the ground, narrowly missing Deidara. "You're a fucking insult to this family, asshole," he spat again, then left Deidara's room, shooting a hateful glance behind him.

Deidara rose from the ground, hugging the pouch to his chest. Why did they tease him? They were his family, families were supposed to love each other. Why didn't his family love him? They treated him like a disease that would devour you from the inside out if you got too close. They hated him, and he knew it. No one loved him, he was unwanted. He had never known love or friendship. The closest thing to that was his pet owl, Gatsu. He modeled all of his sculptures after his owl.

Gatsu gave a feeble hoot; no one cared for his owl's welfare. Deidara had to raise his own money to feed him. Deidara didn't have many talents and he had a bad reputation all around the village. No one wanted to give him a job; all he could do was sculpt art, yet no one agreed that it actually was art. His "family" was most derogatory of all; he hated them.

"Gatsu," Deidara murmured. "I'm sorry I can't feed you enough…" he sighed guiltily. "Please don't hate me…"

"Deidara!" his mother called. "Dinner!" Deidara hated his mother. Her whiny voice was constantly throwing insults at him and her bony hands would just love to curl around his throat. Like his older brother, she thought Deidara was a failure and an insult.

He dropped the clay pouch next to Gatsu's cage and left the room, sulking. Their small house had four rooms; one for his sister and two brothers (no one wanted to share a room with Deidara), one for his parents, one all for himself, and the last was the kitchen. They didn't have much money, and everyone always yelled at him when he brought home a new sack of clay.

Deidara arrived at the kitchen, and, much to his displeasure, saw that all the seats had been taken. His mother had obviously called him down late purposefully. He would be forced to sit on the floor. Everyone stared at him when he made his entrance, their malice filled eyes burnt holes in his very self.

"Sorry, Dara," Kami, Deidara's sister, chimed nastily. "Mom didn't make enough for you," Leo, his younger brother, stuck out his tongue, and Kaze rested his feet on the table. But of course his parents didn't cast disdainful looks at them. No, they were always directed at him, Deidara, the failure, the unwanted loser of the Hidden Rock Village.

Deidara sat in the corner on the floor until his family had finished eating; he had nothing better to do anyway. He had used up all of his clay; the only clay he had left was his experimental explosive batch, and he couldn't exactly use it indoors.

Kaze and Kami had been nudging and whispering to each other all throughout the meal, occasionally glancing in Deidara's direction. He had an uneasy feeling about them. Deidara's father stood up and smoothed his shirt.

"Deidara, clean the dishes," he demanded.

"Fine," Deidara muttered resentfully. Kami and Kaze shot up and out of their chairs and dashed toward the bedrooms. Before Deidara had realized it, he was completely alone in the kitchen. He approached the sink and began washing the dirty tableware. That was all he was good for; Deidara the dishwasher.

All of his pent up anger and malice for his family suddenly burst forth, catching Deidara off guard. He wanted to hear them suffer, watch them burn. He wanted to hear their screams, bathe in their blood, taste their fear. Nothing would bring him joy like running through their raining blood. He yearned to hear their begs for mercy. Smelling their burning flesh would free him of his bonds; he'd be free from them and their rules… and their hate.

Deidara threw the plate he was holding and it shattered against the wall. He was sick of this. He wouldn't take this shit anymore.

Deidara stormed to his room. His thought would to lead to murderous actions, he was sure. He reached his room but the sight that awaited him nearly stopped his heart.

Kami and Kaze were standing in the center of his room nonchalantly, expressions of smug delight plastered across their faces. Deidara's eyes darted to his only loved possession: Gatsu. A feathery lump lay in the middle of the cage. A puddle of blood leaked out through the cage bars, each drop stabbing at Deidara's very soul.

"W-what did you do?…" Deidara wheezed, his voice cracking. The pressure in his chest continued to grow, until it felt as if it would tear him apart. Yet it resumed growing from there.

"You need some real friends, bitch," Kami hissed, pushing past Deidara. Kaze followed, not bothering to avoid hitting his brother.

_I hate them…_

Deidara approached his beloved owl, his only friend. His own siblings had killed him.

_I want them to suffer…_

He opened the cage, picked up the lifeless cluster of feathers, and held it to his chest.

_No…_

That was it. No more mercy. No more second chances. Deidara hated them all.

_I want to hurt them…_

He wanted them dead.

_I want to make them suffer myself…_

Still clutching his owl, he grabbed his clay pouch that contained his C4 explosive clay.

_I want to smell their blood, feel it on my hands…_

Deidara reentered the kitchen and dropped the whole pouch in the middle of the room.

_I want to touch their lifeless bodies…_

He left the house, the small owl's blood staining the sweater he was wearing. This was not the blood he had wanted to feel, to touch, to taste. Tears streamed down Deidara's face as if washing away all of the memories, all of the hatred. The only thing that mattered now was making them suffer.

_I want to make them suffer… I will make them cry out… I'll stretch out their deaths and inflict upon them unimaginable pain…_

His anger shook him, yet he continued walking; away from all of those memories that scarred his heart like burns of the highest degree. Hugging Gatsu to his chest, feeling his blood soaked sweater rub against his chest, Deidara raised his fingers to his tear-stained lips and murmured a single word.

"_Katsu,_"

The entire house was engulfed in flames with a deafening bang behind him. A giant heat wave hit him with deadly force. Deidara's lip quivered and he hugged his owl tighter still. Tears ran down his face, desperately trying to escape his corrupt thoughts and intent. He kept on walking, trying to enjoy the sound of crackling flames behind him. But for some reason, he couldn't. This was the start of a new day, a new life. And now, as blood mixed with tears and left a steady trail of despair, Deidara knew that true art is a bang.

.end.

--

i have a knack for endings made of fail c:


End file.
